


Faded

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Supernatural Collection [65]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Arguing, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Reader-Insert, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 21:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20216548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Y/n’s husband loses his job, the strain on their marriage being too much and needing to be fixed. But will his words ever let them get back to where they were, or will their love fade?





	Faded

Y/n head the door of the house slam, the grumbling from her husband being the only other sound she heard.

“Cas? You here?” she yelled from the kitchen, her hands dirty from the dough she had been kneading, making some homemade bread rolls to go along with the soup she made.

When she got no answer, she walked to the doorway of the kitchen and peered out, seeing her husband standing in the entryway of the house, taking his shoes off and throwing them down angrily.

She gritted her teeth, annoyed that he was messing up the house she spent all day cleaning, but also worried about what could’ve happened now.

“Angel. What happened?”

He said nothing, walking past her and into the kitchen, grabbing a beer.

Y/n smelt the whiskey on his clothes, the smell of stale smoke on him as well.

She sighed, knowing that he once again went to the bar after work.

She hated that he did this. 

It was bad enough that he got so stressed at work, the new boss often treating Cas like shit. 

But once he went to the bar and got drunk, he always closed up.

He wouldn’t say a single word, just sit on the couch watching some shitty show and drinking his beer.

So she just walked back to the counter, continuing to separate the dough that had now risen and put them into a dish, ready for the oven.

She heard the slam of the beer bottle onto the coffee table, looking over her shoulder to see him flicking through channels.

She knew she should ask him about what happened, but right now, he seemed worse than he ever had before.

Y/n sauntered around the kitchen, waiting for the bread rolls to bake, not wanting to have to sit in awkward silence with her husband.

Finding odd jobs, she passed the time, shuffling around shelves, only to put them back to their original state, cleaning the countertop around ten times, before the bread rolls were done.

She let them cool for a few minutes, pouring the soup into the bowls and carrying all the food into the living room, placing them onto the coffee table, pushing aside the three beer bottles he had already gotten to the bottom of.

“So…how was your day?”

He glared at her, sitting up straight and putting the beer down onto the table.

“I fucking got fired!”

Y/n choked on the small amount of soup she had just put into her mouth, coughing as it went down the wrong hole.

“W-what?” she stuttered.

“I got fired. That dick said I was too slow with my sales. I fucking made that company the most amount of money, but he claims I did it too slowly. So he fucking fired me”,

Y/n had no idea what to say. She knew that his boss was a piece of shit.

Sam fucking Winchester. 

Thinking he owned the world cos his mother died then his girlfriend, yet he ‘persevered’. 

His dad raised him and his brother by himself, but always taught them about the business.

The brother, Dean was supposedly the one who was going to take over, having been the one obsessed with pleasing his father.

But once Sam’s girlfriend burnt in a house fire, he came back and decided he’d get back into the business.

He was shady.

He messed up the business a few times, only to ‘save it’ after.

Of course, this made Dean look as though he wasn’t doing anything and Sam was the one who cared about the business.

The shareholders backed Sam, and once John Winchester died, Sam took over and Dean disappeared, apparently marrying a girl called Chelsea and already having a child with her.

Y/n had no idea what her husband could’ve done to anger the man.

Castiel was sweet. 

Great at his job and everyone he worked with loved him.

But it seemed as though Sam had a grudge against him from day one.

Ever since then, their marriage had really gotten more difficult.

Cas was more distant, much more focussed on his job, and often slept in his study.

Y/n understood this and waited for him patiently, but now she wasn’t so sure how this would affect him.

“So, did they say why?”

He shook his head, shrugging, not knowing what the hell the reason was for himself being fired.

They didn’t speak at all, y/n eating her food, Cas taking a few slurps of the soup, before going back to drinking, hoping he could just forget about this shitty day.

Over the next couple of weeks or so, y/n realized just how important this job was to Cas.

Her husband barely even spoke, cooped up in bed almost every day and not going out once.

A few of his friends, Balthazar and Gabriel, came by a few times, trying to cheer him up.

But after ten minutes of nothing, they decided to leave.

Y/n stood in the doorway of their bedroom, looking at the lump underneath the sheets.

She was just sick of it now. 

It smelt like shit in their bedroom, the curtains were always drawn and she needed her husband back.

Walking over to him, she ripped the sheets off him, the stench of week old body sweat and clamminess filling the room.

She gagged, grimacing and trying her hardest not to breathe.

“Ge-get the fu..”

She retched, covering her nose with her sweater and dragged him off the bed.

He tried to resist, but over two weeks of barely eating, he was slimmer than usual and had no strength at all.

She threw him into the shower, letting the cold water pour onto his clothed body, watching him shiver and gulp in air.

After around a minute, she put the hot water on, leaning down and stripping him.

She didn’t care about her own clothes getting wet. She could worry about that later.

She washed him, lathering the shampoo and massaging it into his greasy scalp and scrubbing his body with a loofah, the dead skin washing down the drain and the smell being replaced with a sweet strawberry scent.

Once she was sure he was completely cleaned up, deciding against shaving his beard, cos that looked hot and also because she was all wet and shivering herself, she helped him out of the shower, drying him off and taking him to the spare room, letting him change into his clothes there and cleaning herself up.

She left him in the room and went downstairs once she finished with her own shower, grabbing her cell phone and calling her dad.

_“Hey, dad”._

_“Hey sweetheart, what’s going on?”_

_“I-uh-I need a favour!”_

Y/n chewed her lip, hating having to ask other people for help.

_“What is it sweetie? Are you hurt? Do you need money for the hospital?”_

Y/n smiled at her father’s concern, but quickly calmed him down.

_“No, daddy. It’s just-well-Cas lost his job. And I was hoping maybe you could call Mr Singer. See if he can call some of his friends and find something for him?”_

Her dad agreed immediately, loving Cas as his own son, seeing how happy the man made his daughter.

Y/n hung up with a smile on her face, thinking maybe everything would work out.

She made it her mission to get her husband back to normal.

It started with random conversations, talking about the weather, the news, or even the neighbours divorce.

They got more comfortable with each other again, y/n confessing her worries for their relationship and for him.

He assured her he was ok.

Sure, he wished he had his job, feeling as though he was useless right now.

But he made sure she knew that as long as he had her, he would be able to make it through anything.

He began smiling a whole lot more to make her happy, knowing it was a rare sight for the past few months and seeing him smile, made her heart fill with joy, which in turn made his heart flutter.

They began sleeping closer in the bed, y/n sometimes touching his arm as she slept, eventually holding her close to his body as he used to.

Y/n really thought it was all getting back to normal, especially when her father’s friend called her.

_“Hey, Mr Singer. Did you find him something?”_ she asked, tapping her feet in anticipation.

_“Yes, sweetheart. We found him a job. It’s in town. Similar to his last job. The pay isn’t as high, but I can guarantee the boss won’t treat him like that Winchester bastard did”._

Y/n thanked him profusely, so excited to tell Cas the good news.

She ran up the stairs, bursting into the room and jumping around in joy.

Cas looked at her, taken aback and wondering what the hell she was looking so happy about.

“What? What’s up, honeybee?”

“I got you a job!”

Castiel scrunched his face up, his jaw dropping slightly.

“What?”

“I got you a job! Well, daddy did. He called Mr Singer, who called friends and they found you a job. It’s in the city. Close. And the pay is good as well. They said you start in two weeks, if you want it!”

She waited for him to jump up and kiss her, twirl her, or just do something.

But he just sat there, his eyes empty for a minute, until his nose began flaring, his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed.

“You told your dad about it?”

“I-I…”

Y/n had no idea what the problem was, but she knew Castiel was angrier than she’d ever seen him.

“You what? You told your dad I lost my job. And you got his friends to find me a new one in pity?”

“No. He said he wanted to help”, she responded, wanting him to understand that there was no pity in the offer.

“Help. Like hell he did. You just see me as this pathetic loser, don’t you? Lose my job. My friends are ignoring me now. Can’t even have children”.

Y/n flinched at his last statement.

They’d been trying for kids for a while now, but for some reason, it just wasn’t happening.

They scheduled a doctor’s appointment, but Cas was already blaming himself, thinking it was his sperm that wasn’t working.

She stepped towards him, thinking maybe she could calm him down, but he backed away from her.

“I can’t believe you did that. What the hell was the problem? Haven’t we been having a good time recently? Fixing this. Us. So why the hell would you just randomly do things without asking me?”

“I-I thought you wanted a job. You were so upset after they fired you. You didn’t shower for days, unless you’ve forgotten, Cas. I thought this would make you happy. And we kind of need the money. I don’t want to spend all our savings”.

He scoffed, walking past her and leaving the room.

She chased him downstairs, walking into the living room and gripping his arm, turning him.

“What the hell is the problem? Who cares how you got the job. Either way, I got you one. If you don’t want it, just say. But I just don’t understand why the hell you’re so pissed”.

“I’m pissed because you’re trying to control my life!”

Y/n was utterly lost. 

She had no idea where he was coming from right now. 

She chalked it up to his anger, but he didn’t even have a reason for that either.

“Controlling your life? How the fuck am I controlling your life, Cas? I got you a job. That’s it. You went out drinking all fucking day, I never said anything. You’d come back home and drink again, I still didn’t say anything. You’d lounge around the house on the weekends and-oh that’s right-drink again! I never said a single word then. So, I don’t know what the fuck has crawled up your ass, but don’t fucking take your shit out on me”.

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?”

Y/n recoiled in shock. 

He’d never spoken to her like that before. He’d never even sworn at her.

“W-what?”

“You are a bitch! You can’t get your own damn job, so you want me to pick up the slack. You’re so damn pathetic. Go do something with your life instead of constantly sitting at home like some fucking old housewife. Where the fuck are your friends? Why don’t you ever just go out and do something? Oh yea. You’re too fucking scared to talk to anyone. It’s sad. Sad and pathetic!”

He walked past her, ignoring the pain and tears in her eyes and grabbed his coat, storming out of the house as y/n stood in her spot, shaking and trying to keep her sobs back, not able to believe he brought up her anxiety.

She broke down after a minute, sobbing uncontrollably on the floor of the living room, wishing he’d just come back and hold her.

But he didn’t.

For the next week, she tried to contact him over and over, sending him texts, leaving voicemails, getting in touch with anyone who knew him.

But no one could tell her where her husband went to.

She made sure to call around all the hospitals and police stations to make sure he hadn’t gotten into any trouble.

When they denied anyone by the name of Castiel Novak, she realized he was most likely fine but was just ignoring her.

She went about her life like normal, or as normal as she could.

They’d been married for six years. So, not having him around was a big adjustment, but she held onto the hope that he’d be back for her.

It wasn’t until the day of the game that she once again called him, wondering if he’d show up.

They’d been planning to go to the game for months and actually managed to get tickets.

She knew he had his in his wallet, so if he did decide to go, he’d show up.

Y/n drove to the stadium, the car silent without her husband’s chattering.

Even in the stadium, with the seat beside her empty, it felt completely silent, despite the roars coming from everyone else.

She called him one last time, listening to the voicemail message as the players began running, leaning against the wall behind her.

_“Hey, Cas. I don’t know where you are. But I’m at the game. I miss you. A lot. Please, come here today. I really wanna see you again. Love you, angel”._

She hung up and put the phone back into her purse, not hearing the commotion until it was too late, the wall behind her exploding, the world instantly disappearing around her.

Cas sat in the bar for the thousandth time that week.

He was becoming a regular, sleeping in the motel across the street at night, coming to the bar as soon as it opened and only leaving once it was closing time.

He knew he should’ve gone back home, but his regret for what he said consumed him, not wanting to face the wife he had hurt so badly with his words.

His phone rang again, y/n’s name and beautiful face displayed on the screen, but he ignored it once again.

He took another swig of the whiskey in front of him, sat in the corner as he watched the other few men drinking.

He was in his own world, until a weight was put in his lap.

Looking up, he saw a blonde woman sat on him, twirling her hair and smiling sweetly at him.

He would’ve shoved her off, but he just couldn’t be bothered wasting his energy.

He paid no attention to the touches she gave him, or the random babbling she was doing.

But once her lips connected with his, he closed his eyes, kissing back for just a second, until everything clicked.

What the hell was he doing?

His wife had tried to do something for him and he attacked her, making her feel small and as though she wasn’t doing enough for him.

He ignored her for days on end, probably worrying her to death.

Now here he was, sat in some dingy bar, as some skank kissed him.

He pushed the woman off him, landing on the floor as Castiel stood.

“Oww. What the fuck?”

He ignored her swears and shouts and ran out of the bar, the brightness of the sun hurting his eyes after hours inside the dark, dingy bar.

He needed to get back to y/n.

He drove home, not caring about the fact that he was kind of drunk and would most likely get pulled over.

He fumbled with the keys as he stood on the doorstep, trying to find the right one, his drunken haze blurring his vision.

Finally, he found it and quietly opened the door, hoping he wouldn’t surprise y/n.

“Y/n?”

He peered into the house and stepped in slowly, expecting to see her rushing towards him.

But she didn’t.

He called out for her again, going into the living room, then the kitchen, not seeing her in either of those rooms.

He yelled for her one last time, but he heard no movement from inside the house.

She was probably out.

He sat down, switching the TV on as he drank a cup of coffee, hoping to sober up slightly before she came back, so he could apologize properly.

He waited, switching channels, when he came across the news.

He shook his head, wondering what the hell the world was coming to as he listened to the reports of the explosion all around the city.

He was glad they didn’t live there. Glad that he didn’t go to the damn match.

The match!

His heart dropped to his feet as he realized what could have happened, praying desperately to any god that his thoughts weren’t going to be true.

Grabbing his phone, he frantically dialled her number.

Voicemail.

Every single time it went to voicemail.

He paced the room, waiting for her to answer, hoping she was just giving him a taste of his own medicine and ignoring him.

But when he sat back down, he saw the footage of the explosion, recognizing his beautiful wife, the woman who was all alone, looking lonely as she sat there, before the explosion occurred, her body getting buried in the rubble from the wall.

He knew what had happened.

He knew there was no surviving that.

Castiel sat on the couch, his head in his hands as he cried, sobbing over losing his wife, the last words he said to her being that she was sad and pathetic.

But that was the furthest thing from the truth.

He loved her more than anything.

As long as he had her, he was always going to be happy. 

But he let his anger and pride cloud his mind. And now she was gone, having died thinking she wasn’t good enough for him.

The tears flowed freely, staining his jeans and the carpet beneath him.

He played each and every one of her messages, telling him she was sorry for going behind his back, that she wouldn’t do it again and that she was going to make an effort and spend more time outside with other people. 

Anything to bring him back.

His heart broke at how desperate she sounded in each message, knowing he had left her for too long, left her to believe every bad thing she said about herself. And now she was gone.

He knew what he was going to do. He knew what he needed to do.

Trudging out of the house and into the car, he sat there for a few minutes, before starting it up, reversing out and driving down the long road.

He drove to the road leading out of the town, trees surrounding him before jerking the steering wheel, the car swerving into the woods and crashing into a tree head on.

The speed and impact caused Castiel to fly out, his head smashing into the tree as his body landed on the bumper of the car.

His vision was blurred, the blood pouring out of his ears and head, dark spots appearing before him.

The last thing he saw was the image of his wife in white, offering her hand to him as he accepted, leaving to join her, forever, the world around him fading away. 


End file.
